In Front of You
by MusicoftheNight008
Summary: Sometimes you don't know a good thing until it's  or they're  gone.


"Arthur! Arthur come on, you can't win running that slow!"

"Alfred! Slow down will you, you're going to hurt yourself!"

The lone figure of a young blonde boy stood at the top of a hill, watching as the two he cared most for ran down the slope, laughing beneath the sun's rays. Alfred was always so headstrong, doing exactly what he wanted no matter how reckless. Arthur was chasing after him, half-heartedly scolding his charge over how easily it can be so slip on the dewy grass. Matthew sat there, knees to his chest as he watched them run, inhaling the fresh scent of morning grass, the young air, and the warmth from the sun. Alfred as all smiles, ignoring Arthur as he ran full speed-almost as though he wanted to fall and roll down the rest- but he's not the one who caught Matthew's attention.

No, it was a the man with forest green eyes and sandy blond hair. Standing tall, Matthew looked to him with a soft smile, admiring the man who cared for them. He was stern and stubborn, but he was kind. He was the one who gave him an extra scoop of ice cream when Alfred wasn't looking; the one who made sure he was tucked in at night; and he made sure he told him the story of the white knight.

It was funny- that story Matthew was told every night of a valiant hero...as much as Alfred claimed to be the hero in the storybook, all he could imagine was Arthur fending off the dragon.

* * *

><p>It was strained in the household now. Alfred was going through a rebellious stage- if that was possible at eighteen. Matthew watched how the two men would go into yelling matches, never giving the other a break as they tore into each other verbally. But he knew the moment they were done, that he would be the healer, the pacifier for each of them. Each would vent, rave, and occasionally cry from frustration or exhaustion.<p>

But he took it. Matthew took everything with a strained smile because that's what he was for, and what he wanted. To help them- the most important people in his life. Although he would spend more of his time with Arthur. Alfred would rant, rave, and eventually get over it- choosing to mull over his problems and what he was going to do about it on his own. Arthur chose to lean on Matthew a bit more, using him for comfort and asking about Alfred. He wanted to make things better, and chose to get advice from Matthew.

It killed him inside. Like a dark, grotesque voice in the back of his mind, Matthew didn't want to give him advice on how to try and win Alfred back- he wanted Arthur for himself. He didn't know how to straight out and tell the man, for he was always too timid to try and be assertive in that regard. Instead he chose more subtle clues- holding his hand for longer than it was necessary, caressing his arms, giving slight massages, as well as hugs and cuddling.

But no matter how much he did this, he would always look into those green eyes and see nothing but platonic affection. Almost every time, Matthew covered his green-eyed knight with a blanket and left with a fragmenting heart. If not that, he would kneel by the man's bed, staring into his peaceful, boyish face as he slept. With a hesitant hand, he would cover Arthur's hand with his own and feel the heat radiating from it. He wanted nothing more than to feel that calloused hand run over his face, down his back as the man pressed further. Matthew would look to him with a heartbroken expression, asking in a quiet voice, "I wish I knew how to make you want to be with me forever...If you only knew how much I want that..." He would struggle, fight for the tears to stay but they always fell unbidden down his cheeks.

He took that as his cue to leave, always clenching his hand as he left from the loss of heat.

* * *

><p>Ivan. Of course Alfred chose Ivan of all people to go with. Long after their slight falling out when Alfred moved away, he chose to move in with the Russian man, leaving Matthew to feel partially relieved. He could recall the look on his face when he told Alfred he wanted to stay with Arthur. He had never seen such a look on his brother's face before in his life- at least not directed towards him. It hurt, deep down, but not as much as the look on Arthur's face when Alfred turned him down for the last time.<p>

Arthur told Alfred of his feelings, to which Alfred responded with a scoff and claimed he saw him no more than a caregiver, a fatherly role. Matthew, who had studied that face for so long that he knew of the golden flecks among the green irises, saw the precise moment Arthur's heart shattered.

But he was there for him, like always. Kneeling before him, Matthew told Arthur that he needed to move on, and with a hand on the fallen man's knee as he sat in his chair, he told him that there are much better people out there for him.

"There is someone who loves you greatly, Arthur. You just need to see it."

Matthew watched the tortured expression on the man's face as he scoffed in self-mocking and looked down into violet eyes. "No one will love me as much as I loved Alfred."

Slipping his hand slowly off of him, Matthew swallowed thickly as he stood up. Shaking his head slowly, he tried to see through mist at those once all encompassing forest green eyes...those eyes that stole his heart all those years ago. "Why can't you ever see what's in front of you, Arthur?"

"What do you mean-?"

Without giving him a response, Matthew walked from the room, feeling his heart begin to crumble with each step he took away from the man.

* * *

><p>Arthur was walking through Matthew's old room, running his hand over the blanket of his bed, over the surface of his dresser. The house was silent, which still bothered him all these years later. He sighed deeply, crossing his arms and moving to stare out of the window that looked over the backyard. Memories of Matthew flooded him, and he was surprised over just how much the boy stuck beside him. He had always looked to Alfred for so long, that he never realised just how much Matthew was there for him.<p>

The more Arthur thought, the more his eyes widened. Matthew was the one that was always there for him. He listened to his concerns, his fears, and would care for him. Memories of shy touches that grew marginally bolder over the years assaulted him, leaving Arthur breathless and yearning. No matter how many arguments he and Matthew got into, Matthew would always try to make things better between them- always coming to apologize, even if he wasn't in the wrong.

Arthur moved away from the window and began to look over the belongings that Matthew left behind. Photos littered the top of his dresser- photos of Alfred and Matthew, of friends, as well as Arthur himself. He ran a hand over the cool surface where Matthew's face was, remembering how soft his skin was. Looking back to the bed, he recalled how he would sit there, talking through his problems that he told him at nineteen, of an unrequited love. Arthur's heart stuttered in his chest as the last puzzle piece fell into place.

He sat on the bed and when took one of the pillows, holding it close to his chest, he felt something odd from inside. Pulling back the sheet, he peered inside to see a small piece of paper taped to another piece.

It was a photo of himself, a huge smile on his face as he hugged Matthew close to him at his graduation. What was taped to the photo was a handwritten note from Arthur himself. It was when Matthew was younger, and Arthur was away on business. He sent a letter to him, telling Arthur of his good grades, to which Arthur responded, "I'm so proud of you, Matthew. I love you, and will see you soon." All that was missing from the letter was his message to tell to Alfred.

Matthew had loved him for so long, and Arthur had not even noticed. He was so blinded by Alfred and his hope of a relationship that he didn't even see what he had in front of him. A beautiful man who cared for him with all his heart and soul, and what did he do? Rip it apart by asking about Alfred.

Arthur felt a tightening in his chest; a burning as though a low fire was ignited in the pit of his stomach. The more he thought about Alfred, the colder he felt, but when he thought of Matthew...that fire grew.

Thinking back on Alfred, he recalled times where he related his behaviour to Matthew's. After a long argument, Matthew was the one there to lean on, which made Arthur's heart mend every time.

Seeing things now without coloured lenses, Arthur realized how intimate some of Matthew's gestures were. He recalled how the blonde would leave lingering touches, of just how longing his gazes were...

Had he really been this naive to Matthew's affection for him? Running a hand over his face, Arthur groaned from how idiotic he had been. All this time...the perfect one for him was not Alfred...

But Matthew.

Running from the room and slipping on his coat, Arthur bolted from his house.

* * *

><p>He looked for a while, looking for a crown of golden hair and a curl that bobbed adorably with every step. No matter how hard he searched, Arthur could not find his sparkling, quietly challenging, amethyst gems...until he caved and drove to the house he hoped Matthew still lived in.<p>

Knocking hard and fast on the door he managed to remember, Arthur waited impatiently for a response. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal a semiconscious Matthew in an adorable set of red flannel pyjamas. His eyes widened as he stared at him, and Arthur could not help but wonder how he missed the lighter, lavender hue around his pupil.

"Arthur? What are you doing here?"

"Matthew...I've been thinking of you nonstop, and I just had to say sorry. Sorry for being a complete idiotic bastard over the years. I was so blinded by what I thought I wanted, that I was sightless to anything, or anyone else. I realise now, Matthew, that I want you."

"Matvey...?" a soft voice called out from further inside the house.

As Matthew looked back, it gave Arthur a view of the inside of his house. Standing near the foot of a staircase was a curvaceous woman with short blonde hair. She wore a long masculine shirt, presumably Matthew's, along with a pair of shorts. Over a rush of blood, Arthur heard Matthew say something to her in a language he couldn't quite place. As he wondered where and when Matthew picked up another language, the taller blonde stepped outside and shut the door behind him.

As violet orbs fell on him, Arthur felt as though his heart was leaden. "So, that's, um, Ivan's...?"

"Yeah...Alfred introduced us on a double date he'd planned. It kind of just...took off from there." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, mussing the golden strands which made Arthur wonder how he missed the fact Matthew was a strawberry blonde.

Swallowing thickly, Arthur tried to bring his gaze higher but found himself focusing on the man's collar bone. "Well...I'm happy for you, lad."

Matthew nodded his head, not looking at Arthur either, but of his bare feet as he stood on the cold wood of his patio. "...After all these years, you finally said the words I dreamt to hear." He took a shuddering breath, and looked him in the eye through a thin mist. "But Arthur...it's too late."

"...What do you mean it's too late?"

Matthew ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. "You never showed me any interest, and when I tried to show you my affection, it was unheeded. I had no other hope, Arthur, but to get over you. There's only so much hurt a man can take before moving on, and I had to for my own sake. That was the hardest part- leaving you, leaving our home. ...I'm not going to say I'm angry, because I'm not. I'll never regret you, Arthur, or say that I wish I never felt this way...because you were exactly what I needed. You were my white knight, my first love, and I learned so much from you. But...I've accepted that there are things that cannot be, and we were one of them."

Arthur was silent, taking in the information with a curt nod. Even though he tried to hide it, Matthew knew him too well and saw the slight shaking of his shoulders. "Arthur, it's cold outside...would you like to stay for the night? Kat and I-"

"No. N-no, I'm quite alright, thank you. I have a hotel and...yeah. I'll be fine. Sorry to disrupt your sleep..."

"Arthur..." but that was all he said. Instead of fighting it, Matthew watched, steeling his heart as Arthur was the one to walk away this time...and it was Arthur who felt his heart deteriorate with each uneven step he took.

When Matthew returned to the bed where his sleeping fiancé rested, he couldn't help but let the last few tears for his first love fall.

Sometimes, it's just better this way.  
>But that doesn't stop it from hurting.<p>

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><p><strong>AN:** Greetings and salutations! I have been bitten by the Maple Tea bug, you see, so I predict much more UKCan fics in the future * 0 *

Hope you liked this! Sorry for the sadness of it all, I just... yeah ^_^;;


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